


Thrice in a Moment

by Anjelle



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Family Drama, Family Feels, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Sabo, Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 12:19:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8372068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anjelle/pseuds/Anjelle
Summary: After an attack from a Celestial Dragon, Sabo found himself aboard a marine vessel off the shores of Dawn Island with no recollection of who he was. Eight years later sees him donning the iconic white and blue uniform himself. But upon his return to Marineford after his most recent voyage, Sabo is given an odd mission: track down Fire Fist Ace with an offer to join the Seven Warlords.





	

**Author's Note:**

> GUESS WHO'S BACK? With... something new again... ahahaha... In all honesty I've been trying to keep to smaller projects because I just started working and am still getting used to everything, and there was this oneshot I wanted to write about Sabo as a marine. Well... it's not a oneshot anymore. But it won't be too long! It should be something I can finish within a few chapters, and I've already started on the second one. So I'll stop rambling here and let you get to it.
> 
> Enjoy~

_Firstly came softly-spoken words from around him, his tired brain unable to discern one from the other as they murmured back and forth. His head hurt, but more than that was a blistering pain across the left side of his body. He squirmed just a bit, just a tiny shift as his back grew sore from his stagnant rest, and the moment he did so the injuries throbbed and he let out a quiet hiss as he fell limp against the mattress in defeat. It didn't look like he was going to be getting up so soon… Maybe another few hours of rest would see him in better shape._

_These thoughts fell flat when he noticed an eerie silence fell the moment he'd let out that small hiss of pain, and he supposed whoever was there with him realised that he was awake. He had to debate with himself a moment, one part of him still vying for that rest he'd been so eager for, but eventually that part lost out as he cautiously opened his eyes to the white ceiling of the room. They fluttered, not quite ready for the light, and he wondered just how long he'd been lying there. But as his sight adjusted he found himself lifting his head—ignoring the painful pinch it caused on the left side of his neck—and peering around at the few people in the room with him. They were all wearing the same uniform, white with a blue neckerchief. A few wore hats, "MARINE" emblazoned across the front, and he was starting to understand who these people were._

" _Sabo?" one called, a woman with pink hair pulled back into a ponytail, a cigarette held lazily between her lips as she dropped down into a chair beside the bed. He watched her a moment, blinking confusedly as he tried to think of how to respond. "That's your name, isn't it? It was written on your clothes."_

" _Is it?" He blinked and then frowned, allowing his head to fall back against the pillow. The stinging from holding it up proved too painful. He mulled the name over in his head for a while but nothing seemed to click, furrowing his brows as he tried to place it. "I guess…"_

_Her eyes narrowed and she turned to one of the men in the room, hunching forward with her arms resting on her knees as they exchanged a glance. "Well. Would you look at that? Seems we have a bit of a mess here."_

_The man snorted, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned back against the wall. "Not our problem. Kid's a noble—just gotta bring him back to Goa and let them sort it out."_

_Immediately he tensed, shooting upright despite the protests of pain that sprang to life across his left side. Wide-eyed he stared between them as an oncoming of dread left him feeling sick. "_ No _!"_

 _When both turned to look at him, he shrank back a bit, turning to stare down at his lap. He didn't know where that outburst came from but he_ did _know that he wanted nothing to do with the cause._

" _I-I mean…" He swallowed, cleared his throat. "Please… I-I don't want to go back._ Anywhere but there _."_

_The woman leaned back in her seat, one leg crossing over the other as her head tilted curiously. "So you do remember?"_

_He shook his head. "Not really… But I just—I feel like if I go back something bad will happen. I don't want to._ Please _don't make me."_

_She let out a breath, taking the cigarette between her fingers and glancing over at the others in the room. "Well?"_

" _We can't just bring some kid back to HQ with us…"_

" _Hell, his parents are probably looking for him."_

_She rolled her eyes and turned to the man still standing indifferently in the corner of the room. "Hina will talk to the captain about this."_

_Sabo's shoulders slumped in relief and he carefully lowered himself back down onto the bed, watching as the woman got up and left the room, the others following until only the man with the cigar remained. He watched the other, fidgeting nervously. Well, he'd probably just caused everyone a big annoyance… As guilty as that made him feel, he couldn't bring himself to take it back. When even his name was foreign all that remained was a burning desire to get as far away from wherever they were as possible, and he grasped at those feelings with all he had._

" _Get some rest, kid."_

* * *

He kicked up his feet onto the wood of the desk, chair tilted back on an angle and arms folded behind his head as he let out a hum. Beside his crossed ankles rested a small pile of off-white paper. Every month they would get sent the most recent batch of wanted posters—new pirates, some raised bounties. None of them really caught his interest. Hell, the only notable thing this time around was that there were only three and the photos weren't all that great. Two were blurry, and one even cut out part of the criminal's face. _Nice job on that one, guys._ Well, they were clear enough to make out, at least. He'd recognise the pirates if he saw them. But as he stared at the freckled face on the top poster his foot began to fidget, ticking back and forth almost impatiently as his thoughts turned blank.

"Cap'n?"

His gaze lifted to the doorway, and he felt a small shame for not noticing his subordinate enter. Even if it was excusable that he didn't hear the soft click of the handle being pressed and shoved open, the light filtering in from the entranceway made it entirely obvious. "What's up?"

The woman pressed her lips together in show of her displeasure at the casual tone but it was quickly forgotten as she nodded outside. "We're about to dock."

Sabo blinked, eyebrows raised in surprise as he nodded and shooed her. "I'll be out soon. Just give me a moment."

It was hard to miss the roll of her eyes as she closed the door behind her.

His gaze fell back to the stack of rookie pirates and he let out a sigh. Small fish, alright. The only one with a bounty over one hundred million was Portgas, but he'd been around for a solid year by that point; his bounty before then was fifty million. Yeah, sure, alright, Sabo was a bit of a newbie himself, but he'd already caught and jailed some pretty big fish. This Portgas guy just seemed to be taking a leisurely stroll into the Grandline without much drive. Sabo'd just left training last year and was already commanding his own ship… not that he was so sure he _liked_ commanding his own ship. There was a lot of paperwork, and he was _good_ at paperwork, but that didn't make it any less of a time waster in his eyes.

Sabo shook his head and let out a sigh, running a hand down his face as he lowered his feet, the front legs of the chair clacking against the floorboard. What was he doing? Where were his thoughts even _going_? He was tired, he was overworked, and he was looking forward to taking it easy at Headquarters for the next little while. The nights aboard his new ship had been long and a bit frustrating, with the swaying of the waves keeping him from uninterrupted rest. It probably had something to do with the seas of the Grandline being so rough; most of his childhood was spent in East and North Blue under the guidance of various mentors, seeing as they were currently without a proper instructor for young recruits—or more specifically a proper instructor for _him_ , as he'd proved too skilled for beginner lessons right from the start. Sure he'd been out at sea there, too, but it'd been a while…

Or maybe that was an excuse. Lately his thoughts had been a bit scattered, disorganised in a way that he was unaccustomed, and he kept _thinking_ —

" _Captain_ ," called that same voice, and when he snapped to attention he could see her bulky frame blocking the doorway, muscled arms crossing over his chest.

He cleared his throat and rose from his seat, tucking the bounty posters into the top drawer of his desk before crossing over to her. "Right, sorry. I was just gathering my things."

"Your things?" Her eyes cast downwards to his empty hands.

"My thoughts," came the quick save, and even though she saw through it she let it slide as they stepped out onto the deck. His crew was already docking, some staying behind to lug their supplies off the ship, and he greeted them as he walked by.

That place never really changed. He could still remember his first time there, awed by the sheer _size_ of it all. Marineford was more fortress than not, which was definitely necessary, as it was the base of operations for the entire organisation. But inside the fortress walls was far more impressive—a city for the families of the marines surrounding the main structure, a safe haven for all of their loved ones. In a way, maybe that was what he was most excited to get back to.

Maybe he could feel at home for once.

They wandered up the staircases, floor after floor, and when they finally reached the top level Sabo spun on his heel and turned to face his first mate. "Thanks, but I can take it from here."

She gave Sabo an incredulous look, shifting her weight. "I'm supposed to go with you for the report, aren't I?"

"Technically?" The uncertainty of his tone didn't seem to leave her all too impressed. Sabo just waved it off. "I got it, alright? Why don't you head down to the cafeteria and take it easy for today?"

Her unimpressed glare remained a while longer before an exasperated breath saw her turning back down the staircase, Sabo watching after her with a victorious grin.

Sabo spun on his heel and walked down the hall, his shoes clacking against the tiles, the sound bouncing off of the walls around him, until finally he halted before a set of large doors. He gripped and turned the handle, pushing one of them open and stepping forward with it, allowing it to fall shut as he strode across to the next door, the one leading to the fleet admiral's office, and knocked. And knocked again. And yet there was no answer.

He let out a sigh as he took a seat on one of the chairs set against the wall, arms folded over his chest, posture slouched and foot tapping against the ground. It wasn't like that was the first time Sengoku hadn't been there when Sabo went for a visit but it'd been a good month and a half since they last met. Sabo was eager to see him again… and even _more_ eager to go collapse in bed for a few hours.

It wasn't long before Sabo's attention was stolen by a rather large man seated across from him. He was older, white hairs more a show of age than stress, which he found rare in his line of work. Broad arms and shoulders were hidden away behind the sleeves of a light grey suit, but even unable to see the definition Sabo could tell that this old man had a lot of strength to him. Whoever he was, he seemed content enough to pass the time there munching on rice crackers. Easy to please, maybe? Well, most of the old marines Sabo knew were much the same, perfectly happy patiently waiting for something new to crop up. Sabo himself didn't appreciate sitting around. Maybe one day he would, as age caught up with him.

It was after stealing a few extra glimpses at the elder's face that he started to notice a strange familiarity. Shape of the eyes, scar running across the left side of the face, placement of age lines…

And then it clicked. His mouth curled into a grin as he scooted forward on his chair, leaning closer. "Monkey D. Garp?" The man finally seemed to notice him, having spent the past few minutes more interested in his snack. "It's you, isn't it? Hero of the Marines. I _knew_ you looked familiar."

Garp's careless snacking came to an abrupt halt as he looked Sabo over, a smirk on his face. "Oh? And who're you supposed to be, kid? Haven't seen you around."

"Ah, well—" He rose from his seat and instinct called upon him to smooth out his uniform with his gloved hands, trying to appear a _little_ more professional than he felt, even if he knew the effort would fall flat when the one he was speaking to was known for not caring for appearances. "I've spent a lot of time in East Blue. I saw you once when I was younger, I just… didn't introduce myself."

"That doesn't answer my question, brat."

"Oh, right." Sabo laughed, rubbing the back of his neck before offering his hand to the man seated before him. "Cap'n Sabo Outlook. A pleasure."

Sabo was prepared for the man to ignore the handshake. Garp wasn't one for formalities, he knew, and offered more out of habit than expectation, but watching the confident smirk wash off his superior's face was something else entirely. He quickly lowered his hand, a small bit of nervous fear bubbling up in the pit of his stomach.

Eventually Garp broke eye contact to shake his head, hand running through his hair as he let out a heavy breath. "Sabo, eh? Haven't heard that name in a while."

"Sir?"

Garp snorted, his snacks left forgotten on his lap as the grin from before returned. "Don't mind it. Take a seat and keep me company, brat. Senny's taking his sweet time."

The unease never left but Sabo didn't let it show, glancing at the entrance only once before complying with the command. He sat down beside Garp and fell silent. It was a strange situation; Garp had been his hero ever since childhood, hearing stories about the fall of the pirate king and the capture that led to it—how Vice Admiral Garp would refuse promotion to keep his freedom, how he was everyone's hero. Those old stories were part of the reason Sabo was where he was, wearing a white uniform with the iconic symbol of the Marine's justice emblazoned across it. So it was exciting to finally meet the man from the stories, but all of his thoughts were instead fixated on Garp's bizarre reaction to hearing his name.

"Close call on the field?"

When Sabo looked over he saw Garp's eyes fall to the scarred half of his face and neck, and he pressed his fingertips to the malformed skin. That seemed a bit… off. He never thought _Garp_ , of all people, would question a man's scars… "Ah, no. Accident when I was a kid. I don't remember what happened, but there was a fire on my boat when I lived in East Blue. Some patrolling marines found and treated me."

Stranger still was that his story was met with little more than an acknowledging nod. There was no surprise on his face, no lead into further conversation, just… acceptance. It was an empty gesture that didn't sit well with Sabo, one that he didn't think he'd be able to just get over.

Silence fell. A few moments passed.

"My grandson's name is Sabo."

He blinked, eyebrow raised as some of the tension let up and Sabo relaxed enough to slouch back against the wall. He'd never met anyone who shared his name before… "Oh yeah?"

Garp nodded, a grin on his face. "I have three. Raised them to be good, strong marines. But those little brats wanted to go off and become _pirates_ , of all things! Bwahaha!"

Sabo's lips twitched, and soon he was smiling in match to the old man's laughter as what was left of the tension seemed to melt off his shoulders. At least Garp seemed to have a sense of humour. No other marine would have brought up a family member wanting to be a pirate; it was considered shameful and embarrassing. "Sounds troublesome... You'll get through to them one day. Hopefully."

Garp snorted, shaking his head. "One of them already went off and set sail last year."

He wanted to be sympathetic but somehow found himself chuckling at the thought. "Bet he didn't even tell you before he left, either…"

Garp shook his head, allowing a small pause of thought. "But Sabo's becoming a fine marine. Maybe one of them took my lessons to heart."

"Really? He grinned, twisting around to fully face his superior. "I bet you're proud."

"I think I am, bwahahaha!"

Sabo's smile softened and the peculiarity of their earlier conversation vanished from thought. Somehow it was nice, hearing the infamous Hero of the Marines talk so openly about his family. It made him seem a little more human, a little more real. "And the last one? Still have a chance with him, you think?"

"Not at all! The little shit's been idolising one of the Four Emperors since he was just a boy. Shanks."

"An emperor?" He snickered, leaning back against the wall. Not only an emperor, but one of Roger's crew members, wasn't he? That had to be a low blow to the one who'd been praised for ending the pirate king's reign… "Seems like you've got your hands full with that one."

Garp nodded, his fingers tangled together in his lap. "They're good kids, though. All of them."

Sabo glanced over, never mentioning the stern look that seemed to wash over Garp's face. He fought with himself over what to say next—this was his childhood _idol_ , and despite everything he just couldn't seem to _think_.

But soon the larger doors at the end of the room creaked open, a large man revealed on the other side—a familiar man, and as their eyes met Sabo raised a hand in lazy greeting, "Yo."

Sengoku barely gave him more than a look before focusing instead on Garp. "There you are." He nodded to the office and Garp just laughed. It wasn't hard to see how unimpressed the fleet admiral was with that response as he moved across the room and snatched the bag of rice crackers right out of Garp's arms before storming into the office.

Garp blinked a moment before rising up from his chair and stomping into the other room. "Ah! Those are mine!"

Those were the last words Sabo heard before the door slammed shut, and he was left alone in the waiting room. His eyes scurried across the garish paintings set across the walls, chalking the tacky decor up to Sengoku's rising age as he heard sounds coming from the office. At first all he heard was the booming laughter so iconic of Garp, a quality that showed just how laid back he was—and how gutsy, considering that was his superior he was laughing at. With? At or with? Well, perhaps Sabo would've known if he could have heard the conversation…

It wasn't long before an equally loud, much less amused voice could be made out—one that went from shouting to angered yelling, unsurprising when Garp didn't seem to have a care in the world. It made Sabo all the more curious about what they were talking about… It had to be a serious matter for Sengoku to brush him off like that.

Thinking back to it had him pouting. Blown off, just like that…

It took about twenty minutes for the office door to open up and for Garp to step out, walking by with smirk on his face—apparently still unfazed by whatever Sengoku had been yelling about.

"Never heard him quite that pissed off, I've got to say," Sabo stated, standing up to walk the old man to the door. "I'm impressed."

"Bwahaha! Then you haven't been around him enough!" Garp slapped him on the back and Sabo jerked forward, _just_ managing to keep his balance. "Tread lightly, brat. He's in a mood."

"So I've heard…" _Literally_. "It was nice speaking with you, Sir."

Garp just snorted, as expected. But what he didn't expect was a sudden, forceful tussle of his hair before Garp walked out. He sputtered, his hair a frazzled mess that he hurried to straighten out. _What the hell was that about…?_

After taming his hair—at least as much as he _could_ —Sabo stepped into the office, only to see Sengoku sitting at his desk, munching on snacks from the bag confiscated from Garp. Sabo snorted before wandering a little further into the room, offering a mock salute. "It's good to see you again."

"You look well," Sengoku returned, shoving his hand into the bag once more. Looking at him then, he didn't seem all that different from Garp. "Take a seat."

Sabo complied without thought, his posture straight and tall—formal out of habit—and he didn't hesitate to begin in his report. "In total we've sent 312 pirates to Marineford since setting sail back in June. Most weren't very notable, but we were able to investigate one Edward Teach—"

Sengoku held up his hand, pausing Sabo's words without much thought or care. "Your first mate has been keeping me up to date." Of course she had been. He should have expected as much. "How have you been enjoying your new position?"

"It's great," he said, almost out of instinct, but Sengoku's raised eyebrow had him slouching back with a pout. "...But I'll admit that I miss working on my own sometimes."

He caught the way Sengoku looked at him then, narrowed eyes more piqued with interest than judgemental, and he wasn't sure how he felt about the stare he was being given. "I have a job for you."

"What, no vacation?"

Sengoku gave him a look before opening one of the desk drawers to retrieve an off-white paper, sliding it across to Sabo—a wanted poster. The moment he saw the picture he recognised it but still his eyes fell to the name and he read it with muted curiosity: _Portgas D. Ace._ "This man has been recently dubbed Fire Fist Ace after obtaining and eating a logia devil fruit. He's been a handful since and I want you to deliver something to him—a formal offer to join the Warlords."

Sabo raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly. This all seemed like a big waste of time… "Don't you usually just mail those out?"

"He's been moving sporadically," Sengoku stated with a sigh, rubbing his temple. "We haven't been able to locate him fast enough to get it delivered. I know you. You'll make quick work of a job like this."

"My crew?"

"We've had some casualties at one of the Grand Line bases. They'll be sent to fill those positions until we can find permanent replacements."

Well, it didn't sound like he had much choice in the matter, and Sabo wasn't usually one to question orders. Those words were met with a smirk as he threw his hands behind his head and relaxed. "Fine, alright. Might be nice to have a few weeks to myself."

Sengoku nodded in approval before handing over a stack of papers with further details. "I knew you'd say that."

Sabo grinned as he flipped through them carelessly. There was a little more information on Portgas and the crew calling themselves the Spade Pirates— _really? Because his name is 'Ace'? How simplistic…_ He wondered if he'd actually use any of it. "Well, I'd hope so. You've known me long enough."

The statement was waved off. "You leave tomorrow. But when you meet this pirate, I want you undercover. Don't use your real name."

He blinked, the papers lowered to his lap. "...Why should I?"

"Fire Fist is both aggressive and combative. You've been making a name for yourself as of late, and I have no doubt that if he knows who you are he'll see your strength and want to fight you. That would only muddy negotiations."

"Fine, fine, I'll think something up…" It was true that Sabo Outlook was a name used in the paper once or thrice and that no photos had accompanied them. He could see where Sengoku was coming from. But that left him rubbing the back of his neck, unsure of what to go by. His name was the one thing he'd held onto after his accident… It didn't feel right going by something else. "Is that all?"

"Report to me the moment you find out his answer."

Sabo snorted and rose from his seat, offering a second mock salute. "Aye-aye. His answer will be 'yes', just so you know."

A raised eyebrow prompted him for more, and his cocky nature radiated off him in waves.

"I can be quite persuasive."

* * *

Sabo's walk through the city saw him staring at that small stack of papers he'd been given, his brow furrowed. He managed to avoid bumping into anyone or anything, which was a practiced skill having walked down those busy streets many times before. The information on those papers left him scratching his head. Portgas was from East Blue, the same as Sabo—he could appreciate that. Coming from the weakest sea meant a lot of subsequent mockery that Sabo didn't much appreciate, and he didn't doubt that went double for a criminal. At least the marines found it to be a sign of peace and hope… Pirates likely weren't as kind.

The devil fruit Portgas consumed was the mera mera, a logia like Sengoku had said. Specifically it gave Portgas the element of fire, one of the more outright destructive abilities out there. In a fight it could prove deadly, but Sabo'd been taught haki and his staff had some seastone coating, so he would be okay even if the pirate's temper flared. But aside from brute strength Portgas didn't seem like all that malicious a pirate. Hell, dine-and-dash was the most frequent mention on his list of crimes. On the surface he seemed like a two-bit criminal, certainly not worth the price of his head…

But then there were a few violent acts that really cemented him as the ruthless pirate he'd been made out to be. They made Sabo question whether or not his cocky attitude was warranted.

He shoved the papers into his bag with a sigh, looking around absently at the crowds. They were a lot of children, a lot of wives and husbands—the families of the marines. It always left him smiling, especially when an officer came home to see loved ones. The sight eased his nerves and by the time he stepped inside his own home he wasn't feeling so anxious.

Well, that was until he lit a few candles and saw the thin layer of dust covering every surface. _Lovely._ It wasn't like it was something that he wasn't used to; his house looked like that every time he came home from a long trip. But the fact that it didn't look lived-in, and that it didn't even feel all that much _like_ a home, left his mood just a little lower than it started. He wished he could say that he was one of those guys whose home was at sea, but really… it wasn't. It had more to do with being uprooted every few months and less to do with his love for adventure—which, he _did_ love adventure, but the sea was another story.

Okay. So he _may_ have still held a bit of unease at sea ever since his accident. But it was only a little! And he could blame it more on not knowing _how_ his boat caught fire than almost dying at sea itself. But that unease found him out of place on land and sea, and…

Maybe he was just lonely.

With a groan Sabo dropped his things against the wall and collapsed on his bed, never bothering to take off his shoes, and as exhaustion caught up with him he slipped off into a deep sleep.

When morning would come, all he would remember from his dreams were the thoughts and feelings of a small ten-year-old boy trapped in a cage, and a few aching words desperately repeated.

" _If I stay here I'll never be free!"_


End file.
